let us go then, you and I
by TrappedGenius
Summary: Kurt can't be in New York after he breaks up with Blaine, and flees to Paris. There he meets Sebastian, ten years after they last met, who is scared the city no longer means anything to him. As he shows Kurt the town he once loved, can he not only rediscover his love for Paris, but discover his love for someone else? Inspired by The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: kurtbastian inspired by the love song of j alfred prufrock because both the poem and kurtbastian are beautiful, therefore should be merged. **

**this will be about five parts, maybe more.**

**also, this is unbetad. **

**glee is not mine, reviews are pretty awesome.**

* * *

The day after he breaks off his engagement with Blaine, Kurt books a plane ticket to Paris.

He just can't be in New York right now. The city had always been his friend, even back in Lima when it was a distant dream, but now, now, it was too big, too crowded, too lonely.

And he just couldn't stand the idea of the pity in Rachel's eyes as he asked if he could sleep on her couch, the questions, the 'why aren't you wearing your ring's. It made him feel sick to think about it.

So he packed everything that would fit in his case, and stayed in a hotel that night. Blaine had left the apartment and was staying with a friend from college but he just couldn't be there, in the place that had always been_ theirs_, alone.

God, he hadn't even told his dad yet - about the break up or the plane ticket. Kurt decided he'd call him from France, before his father tried to convince him to stay and to not run away.

Running away sounded pretty damn good right now, so it was what he was going to do.

Perhaps the image seared onto his mind of Blaine fucking another guy on the bed they'd shared for ten years would be fainter in Paris.

That night, in the hotel room, he'd been an absolute mess. The cheap champagne he'd ordered wasn't enough to dull the pain, wasn't taking away the image he saw every time he closed his eyes, wasn't silencing the 'Kurt, please, I can explain's still ringing in his ears.

Phone switched off and buried somewhere at the bottom of his case, he'd drank until he fell into a dreamless sleep, tear tracks staining his face, still fully dressed.

It was the first night New York hadn't felt like home.

The next day he'd dragged himself into the shower, ignoring the dryness of his throat and the thumping in his head as he got dressed. He didn't even register if the clothes he was wearing actually matched, the glance he took of his dark circles and red eyes in the mirror enough to stop him from caring.

Hailing a cab to take him to the airport, Kurt spent the majority of the drive concentrating on his iPod rather than everything else. Everything else being Blaine, and what the hell he was going to say to his dad, and his deposit on the wedding venue, and, oh God, his job-

He grabbed his phone, ignoring the missed calls and the texts that were most likely from Blaine before dialling Isabelle. Kurt was now running a small yet insanely popular column on - but she was still his boss.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey, Isabelle, it's me. Listen, I'm going to be out of town. I don't know for how long. I'm sorry it's last minute, but I only decided yesterday and I'm in a cab on my way to the airport right now," he said in a rushed voice, hoping she wouldn't ask too many questions.

And, of course, she didn't even question it. God, he loved that woman. _"Don't even worry about it. You have some old articles we decided not to use saved on the system, right? Take as much time off as you need. If you want, you can even email me some work when you're up for it."  
_  
"Thanks," he let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so, so sorry to leave you like this, I just - I really need to get away."

_"It's fine,"_ she insisted, before hesitating. _"Do you want to talk about it?"_

"No," he replied instantly. "No, I can't right now. I don't even really know what's happening myself," he laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "I'm going to France. And I don't know how long I'll be there. If Blaine or anyone else calls, please don't tell them where I've gone."

_"Okay. Call me if you need me, sweetie. I hope everything works out."  
_  
He wants to cry. But he can't, because once he's started, he won't be able to stop. "Me too, Isabelle. Me too."

They say their goodbyes and Kurt hangs up, his phone starting to ring almost the second he disconnects. He doesn't need to look to see that it's Blaine calling, and ignores the call without a second thought, turning off his phone.

He can't even stand to see Blaine's name anymore. There's no way in hell Kurt's going to talk to him.

"Keep the change," he tells the cab driver before wheeling his suitcase up the sidewalk an into the airport.

He's actually doing this. God, he's _actually _doing this.

What the hell was he going to do when he got there?

Kurt had no idea. All he knew was that it would be better than here.

The flight took over seven hours, and he was exhausted, but he couldn't bring himself to sleep. Instead he sketched. Over and over, until his pencil broke, puncturing his paper, and his vision blurred.

He'd sat next to a woman who'd slept the whole flight, something he was very thankful for. Kurt had never been too fond of talking to strangers on planes, and right now, he wouldn't be able to stand it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to begin our final descent into Charles de Gaulle..."

Kurt sat up, fastening his seatbelt as the plane began to descend. Paris. He was finally here, the place he'd dreamed about visiting since he was a kid. He'd never got round to it, always too busy with work and planning his wedding-

Sighing, he rubbed his pounding head as the plane landed.

He needed a drink. Preferably an alcoholic one.

* * *

Sebastian Smythe sat in the corner of the coffee shop he often frequented on Friday afternoons, sketchbook open, pencil poised - but nothing to draw.

It had been this way for almost a week. Every time he sat down to draw, something was just... Wrong. The pencil was too small, the lighting too dark, the paper too thin. And now, his inspiration was shot, and he couldn't even find anything that he wanted to capture on paper.

Sighing, he took a long sip of his latte. Paris was supposed to have been the place that nurtured him as an artist, inspired him, cared for him. But it wasn't anymore. The city had turned against him.

There were too many tourists, people holding cameras stood in front of the buildings, blocking his view with their oversized bags, sunglasses perched on their heads even in the winter months.

The city was too bright. Sebastian could remember a time when, strolling along the Seine at night, he wasn't led by the streetlights but the reflection of the moon on the water. And every night, without fail, the damned tower lit up like a mutant Christmas tree, blinking and twinkling obnoxiously.

If you knew where to go, Paris could be every artist's dream.

But he no longer knew where to go.

Had he been here too long? Had he squeezed the streets of their worth to him, until they no longer meant anything?

Even if he had, Sebastian couldn't go home. He couldn't even afford a plane ticket, and his father had cut him off just before he left America.

There was nothing to do but sit in this coffee shop all day, waiting for the moment when he thought _that's it, that's what I need to do, this is how I can start working again, _returning to his cramped apartment in the early hours of the morning.

He was growing to hate the city he'd dreamed about returning to for so long, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

In fact, he'd just about given up on Paris the day Kurt Hummel walked through the door of the coffee shop he hid from the city in.

As the man had strolled in, Sebastian almost choked on his coffee. It had been over ten years since they'd last seen each other, and yet, there was no doubt about it.

Of course, he looked older. A lot more tired, as well. Though who was he to talk? The dark circles under his eyes seemed to have taken up a permanent residence - along with the lines framing his lips and decorating his forehead.

But what was Kurt Hummel doing in the shitty part of Paris? Last he'd heard, he was happily engaged to one Blaine Anderson, running some column in some fashion magazine. God, it was so fucking cliché he wanted to laugh.

Making his decision, he drained the last of the liquid in the styrofoam cup, walking over to the man.

"Well, if it isn't New York's own Kurt Hummel. Had enough of the pretentious lights of the city?"

The words tasted strange, for some reason, and he found himself wanting to take them back.

Kurt merely raised an eyebrow. "Sebastian Smythe. Of course. Doesn't the world have a remarkable sense of humour?" Chuckling dryly, he moved forward in the queue.

Well, he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to make of that. "What brings you to Paris, princess?"

"I could say the same to you, except I figured that it wasn't any of my business. Given the fact that we're hardly friends, now, are we?"

Sebastian tilted his head, as if he was trying to understand him, then gave a short laugh. "I guess you're right." Then he stuck out his hand.

Looking at him in an amused way, as if to say, 'You actually expect me to shake that?' Kurt sniffed, but once it became clear Sebastian wasn't giving up, he shook tentatively. "I'm just here. I arrived an hour ago. That's all." His words were short, clipped, and not exactly friendly.

"I've been here for six years," Sebastian told him, not seeming to care if he was listening or not. "I came out here just after college, actually. My dad didn't like it, but-"

"Why are you telling me this?"

They're at the front of the queue now, and Kurt's ordering a coffee in perfect French.

"Here, let me," he says quickly, paying for the coffee before Kurt protests.

Why is he doing this? Granted, Sebastian's definitely not the jerk he was in high school, but he didn't go around... Talking to people he used to be a dick to, and paying for their coffees, and being _nice. _

"You really have turned over a new leaf, huh?"

Kurt's voice snaps Sebastian out of his thoughts, and he snorts. "Well, princess, I'm not quite as much of a douchebag as I was then. Ten years does a lot to a person."

Smiling slightly, but in a terribly sad way, Kurt ducks his head. "Oh you have no idea."

Sebastian doesn't question it, instead pulls out a chair and gestures to it awkwardly. "Shall we sit?"

"I suppose," Kurt sighs, sitting in the chair. "Since you paid for my crappy coffee and all."

"You're welcome, by the way."

"Am I?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Huh, I don't know. I'm jetlagged, nothing makes such sense."

"Like your choice of clothing, princess?"

"Shut up, meerkat."

They look at each other for a second, then Sebastian starts laughing. Kurt tries to keep a straight face, but ends up grinning anyway. It's the same as before, though: sad, and lonely, and awfully tragic.

"So, where's your hobbit?"

Kurt doesn't say anything, just opens a sachet of sugar and pours it in his cup.

"I'm guessing he's not here, then. Oh, I can't wait to hear this little sob-story. Do tell." Sebastian's being a bit of a dick now, and he knows it, but it's too late.

Again, Kurt doesn't say respond. Instead he sits there stirring the sugar into his coffee, smiling up at him in an almost pitiful way. His upturned lips seemed to say 'Oh, if only you knew of the real world'.

It kind of pisses him off, in fact. "Are you going to sit there silently all day, princess? I wouldn't have bothered buying your coffee if I know you were going to bore me."

Still smiling, Kurt puts the lid back on his cup. "Blaine's in New York. If you're that interested, go there and get him. Apparently he'll fuck anyone now."

Glancing at Kurt's hand, Sebastian notices the lack of a ring on his finger. There's a strip of lighter skin, as if he'd been wearing it for a while and had only just taken it off. "I - shit. I'm sorry."

"Really?" Kurt asks coolly, sipping his drink. "Since when did you care if Blaine and I were together? In fact, from what I can remember, you definitely wanted the opposite."

"Yeah, but I was a dick then," Sebastian reminds him. "And I guess I still am, but like I said: ten years does a lot to a person."

"What did it do to you?"

He grins, shaking his head. "That's a long story, princess. And not one I'm going to tell sober."

"I'm not going drinking with you, Smythe. Don't you remember what happened last time?"

Sebastian laughs. "No, actually, I don't. I remember Bear Cub, but that's about it."

Kurt's look suddenly turns sour. "Well, let me refresh your memory. You got my boyfriend drunk, he danced with you, and then he decided to try to pressure me into losing my virginity in the backseat of his car."

_"What?"_

Looking slightly uncomfortable, he continues to sip his coffee. "Nothing, it doesn't matter."

"Yes it does!" he responds instantly, feeling like the shittiest person on the planet. "What did Blaine do to you?" his voice is softer now, and Kurt can't help but think it suits him.

"Nothing!" he insists. "He tried to have sex with my in a car, I said no, and managed to push him off before anything happened. It was _nothing._"

"Managed to...? Kurt, are you saying he wasn't listening when you told him 'no'?" His voice is so soft now, so quiet, and it makes Kurt want to cry. What the hell is wrong with him?

"No," says Kurt quickly. "No, he would have stopped. He would have. It was just... Unexpected, that's all. Anyway, that's the least of my troubles." His voice is stronger now, and Sebastian stops worrying.

He rests his chin in the palm of his hand, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Now, there's _my _conversation we won't be having sober."

Sebastian leans back in his chair. "Well, I'll take you out tonight."

Kurt's eyes snap up. "Didn't you hear me? I'm not going out drinking, meerkat."

Grin softening, Sebastian shook his head. "I'm not asking you to go drinking with me, princess. Let me show you the town, and let's get drunk off Paris."

The city doesn't do it for him anymore - but the way Kurt's breath catches in his throat at his words, and his eyes seem to sparkle like they once did in a coffee shop in a small town in Ohio, he thinks maybe it could, maybe it would once again.

"How poetic of you, Smythe."

"You don't know the half of it, Hummel."

Later, when they're strolling through the cobbled streets of the city at midnight, Kurt will admit that he didn't.

* * *

**tell me what you think! next chapter will be up soon.**

**TG**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, favourites and alerts! **

**By the way this chapter plays out, I think this story might be longer than I was originally anticipating. I haven't really decided yet.**

**Please continue to review, and I don't own Glee**

* * *

When Kurt walked into a tiny coffee shop in the less touristy part of Paris, only an hour after getting off the plane, Sebastian Smythe had been the last person he'd thought he'd see.

And yet, the man stood before him. It had been ten years since they'd last met - and it showed. Of course, it showed on both their faces. The years had been cruel to them both, and now here they were: of all the coffee shops in the world...

Kurt had to grin slightly at his own thoughts, but it was a half hearted attempt at best. In fact, it was more of a grimace. What was the matter with him? It wasn't like he'd been all that happy before. He'd had his suspicions that Blaine wasn't faithful... But actually seeing it...

Feeling sick, he shook the thoughts away, concentrating instead on drinking the coffee that Sebastian Smythe - hah! - had bought for him.

As they talked, he could tell the man had truly changed. They hadn't met since the day he promised Dave's attempt had made him re-evaluate certain things, so Kurt couldn't be sure if it really was Dave Karofsky that had softened him so.

He was still kind of a dick, though. A person could change, but they could only change so much. Obviously this was Sebastian's limit.

Then when he'd said that stupid line to him, the 'let's get drunk off Paris' - God, it got to him. Kurt was still a romantic at heart. Lines like that made his heart beat faster, no matter who spoke them to him, even if the speaker was a meerkat.

And it had been so long since Blaine had ever said or done something that made his heart beat faster. They'd been engaged for over three years. It was too long. That, if Kurt was honest, was part of the problem. Blaine had proposed to save their relationship. Neither of them acknowledged it at the time, but it was the truth. Then they'd both been too busy to really plan anything, and three years and ten months later, the relationship was dead.

Well, it had been sooner than that. After a year the excitement of being engaged had worn off. Kurt wouldn't have been surprised to find out Blaine had been fucking other guys for months now. So why did it hurt so bad, if he had suspected it in the first place?

It hurt because a part of him, aster part than he'd cared to admit, was hanging on to that perfect, wonderful idea of his first love being his soulmate. The perfect romance. But he had to accept that their relationship had never been a passionate one, even when they were hopelessly in love. It had been easy, and it had been wonderful - had being the key word - but Blaine wasn't the one.

God, though, Kurt never would have cheated. They should have never got back together after their first break up, so they were both to blame, but he would never cheat on someone.

Blaine was different, though. He wasn't good at being alone. He wasn't independent like Kurt was - he needed someone to love him, care for him, touch him. It was why he's cheated the first time, and it was why he's cheated the second time. Or whatever time it was, because he had a feeling it wasn't the second.

They should have broken up long ago.

And that what he was going to have to hold on to tight to get over this and move on - the fact that Blaine and him hadn't worked for years and never would.

He couldn't be weak this time. When he went home, because he couldn't hide in Paris forever, and Blaine begged him for his forgiveness, he needed to remember what he felt right now. He couldn't be with somebody just because they needed someone. He could only be with someone who needed him specifically, not just someone to love them. Last time he'd got back with Blaine because he was clinging on to his high school sweetheart. But high school relationships weren't strong enough for the real world - with rare exceptions - and he couldn't take him back this time.

Kurt only hoped he'd be strong enough to remember that when Blaine was asking him to take him back.

"-Princess? Princess?"

Sebastian's voice brought him back to the coffee shop, and he snapped his eyes up. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, where are you staying?"

"Oh," he shrugged, sipping his coffee. "I don't know, yet. I figured I'd find a hotel, I guess."

Sebastian seemed to be suffering some kind of inner turmoil, and was anxiously twiddling his thumbs while his knee jerked up and down in a steady beat that rocked the table. It was kind of annoying, actually. His foot was kicking Kurt's chair and the whole table top was shaking.

"Would you stop that?" He snapped, finally having enough of the jerking.

"Sorry," Sebastian apologised in an actually _sincere_ way that made Kurt's eyebrows rise. "I was just thinking..."

"Thinking... What, exactly?" He prompted when it became clear the other man had trailed off.

"Screw it," he muttered to himself, then raised his voice. "If you need a place to stay, princess, my couch is unoccupied."

Kurt almost choked on his coffee, swallowing quickly and spluttering a bit. "I - give me a sec," he wheezed, still coughing. "Okay. I - really? Because I'm sure I could find a cheap hotel around here."

"Yeah, you could," he agreed. "And if you wanted to get half of the STDs under the sun, you could stay there, too."

"And if I wanted to get the other half, I would sleep on your couch, right?"

Sebastian laughs a little. And then he laughs a lot. In fact, he laughs loudly and for quite a while, to the point where the few other customers in the coffee shop are now staring at them. Scowling, Kurt leans back into his chair, staring as the other man starts to come down, wiping his eyes. "That was - kudos, princess. Seriously, though," he says, all hints of a smile disappearing from his face. "You should stay. My apartment's not exactly 5 star accommodation, but I can guarantee you won't get stabbed in the night."

Kurt raises an eyebrow, as if to say 'Can you, though? Really?' But nods a minute later. "Fine. But only until I find a hotel that doesn't resemble the one from 'The Shining', okay?"

"Deal. Have you finished your shitty coffee?"

They're sitting so close to the barista that if she spoke a word of English, she'd be able to understand every word he was saying - oh. Perhaps, he thought, as she glared viciously at him, Marie the barista _could_ speak English.

Kurt nods.

"Okay, princess. Let me show you the town."

Quirking an eyebrow, he stands up nevertheless. "Fine. But can we at least stop off at this STD-infested apartment first? I don't really want to be hauling a suitcase around Paris."

"Fine," Sebastian snaps in response. Kurt figures he said something wrong, or did something wrong, but he doesn't know what. God, he's too jetlagged for this.

They walk out of the coffee shop in silence, Kurt still wondering what the hell is going on.

* * *

"So... This is it," Sebastian says rather awkwardly, after he's finally managed to turn the key in the rusty lock and shove open the door.

Kurt's out of breath after climbing five flights of stairs to get up here. The whole building stank, so he was trying to breathe through his mouth as much as possible. The end result was him panting like a dog, trying to breathe quieter and then feeling light headed because he wasn't breathing at all.

Sebastian lead him inside, kicking away the shoes that were blocking the front door. And it's - well, it's clean, at least. The white carpet is greying, but at least it wasn't filthy, and the couch looked old but wasn't covered in old bits of food.

That isn't what takes him by surprise the most, though. What shocks Kurt is the bookcases lining almost every inch of the wall, absolutely filled with books of all colours, shapes, and sizes.

It's definitely not what he would have expected. For one, he never thought of Sebastian as a big reader, but obviously...

"Are you going to stand there and gawk all day, princess?"

He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the books he's itching to reach out and touch, itching to see exactly what Sebastian read. The books someone reads say a lot about them as a person, and Kurt was desperate to find out what these books said. Instead, he moves his gaze back to Sebastian, who's staring at him with a slightly amused look on his face. "Sorry," he mumbles, glancing back at the couch he was supposed to be sleeping on for god-knows-how-long.

It's quite big, so there's no danger of his feet sticking of the edge. And it looks relatively comfortable. His biggest worry is that the books fall off the shelves and he gets crushed to death. Although... Dying by book sounds like an awfully interesting way to die.

"Do you want to take a shower or something?"

Sebastian's voice is hesitant, and oh yeah, this is _awkward_. Really, really, awkward. Why did he agree to this again? Because he didn't want to get a disease from a crappy hotel that resembled a brothel, yes. But still. God, this was awkward. And of course it was. They'd never been friends, they were barely even acquaintances. And now, meeting again after ten years, Kurt was practically moving in. But he did need to take a shower.

"Uh, sure. Where...?"

"Down the hall, on the left," Sebastian says quickly, heading into another room that could possibly be a bedroom.

Kurt's left to wander out of the living room and down the hall, glancing at the photos hanging on the whitewashed walls.

There's Sebastian with his arms around a girl who looks about five with the same green eyes as him. It has to be old, though, there are no hints of the lines that now decorated the man's face. And he seemed to be in a Dalton Academy blazer. Both of them were smiling. Kurt had never seen Sebastian smile like that... He'd seen him grin, smirk and grimace, but never properly smile like _that. _

Dragging his eyes away, Kurt walks down the hall, pausing at the next photograph. This one looks slightly more recent, but still had to be taken a couple of years ago. It's of Sebastian and a guy with blond hair. The blond haired guy is kissing Sebastian's cheek, and there's that smile again. Was this his boyfriend, Kurt wonders, at if it was, was he still around?

By the way Sebastian had talked to him in the coffee shop it didn't seem like he had a boyfriend. You don't just invite some guy to come stay with you without asking your boyfriend first, right? Then again, God knows what it would be like to be in a relationship with Sebastian Smythe. Kurt had never pictured him as the 'boyfriend type'.

He turns away from the photo, heading through the door on the left. It wasn't exactly his business, anyway.

An hour later, Kurt was freshly showered and changed into something that wasn't wrinkled. The sun was setting over Paris. He could just about see the last remaining hints of orange in the dark sky from the grimy window in Sebastian's living room, the only area of the wall not covered in books. And if he's honest... He's kind of nervous. Where was Sebastian going to take him? It would be just like the man to take him to, God, a strip club or somewhere like that.

"We're not going to a strip club, are we?" he blurts out as Sebastian walks back into the room.

He quirks an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. "No, princess. That's tomorrow night."

Kurt's eyes widen.

"Joking, I'm joking!" He says hurriedly. "I already told you, Hummel. I want to show you the city, my favourite parts of it." Or at least, what used to be his favourite parts of it before he fell out of love... And not just with the city. It had been three years since Lucien and it wasn't getting any easier.

Calming down slightly, Kurt relaxed his shoulders. "So, where _are _we going?"

"Well, you'll see when we get there. But I need to stop by at a friend's first. Besides, it's only eight. It's too early."

"It's dark out, Sebastian."

Sebastian just grins. "Yes, but the stars haven't came out. And believe me, you only want to see Paris under the stars."

* * *

**I was planning to write them going out as well in this chapter, but I didn't want to split that up and this kind of got away from me a bit.**

**TG**


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